


A pound of flesh

by Verse



Series: Teethk au [1]
Category: Digimon Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted self harm, Body Horror, Gen, Gender Non-conforming Characters, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-22 09:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14305518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verse/pseuds/Verse
Summary: The Digital World, as it turns out, has a tendency to gift a piece of itself to the kids that visit it.





	1. Tai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those chapters were originally independant one-shots hence the sometimes wiiiide difference in writing style and such between them.

Tai forgets what the cold is like.

Well, that’s not quite exact. He knows what it  _feels_  like- the sharp prickle of unseen teeth over his skin. He just doesn’t quite remember  _why_  it should bother him, why the wind used to feel like jaws rather than a gentle kiss.

“You’re gonna get sick.” His mother scolds, forcing him into a stuffy coat, because they’re three days into winter and he’s yet to willingly wear anything more than a shirt. An who could blame him? He just forgets- and beside, he has much more freedom of movement this way!

“Your hands are warm.” Says Kari at his side, shivering. “Your everything is warm.” He is. He  _feels_  warm, in his belly. That’s fine by him- all the more reasons to hug his friends.

The heat doesn’t bother him much anymore, either. The cookie tray is hot in his palms, but not in a bad way.  Painlessly, he settles the tray on the table and cheerfully calls his family to see sweets, and his mother scream when she sees his bare hands.

It’s the one time he forgets the oven mitts. His hands are barely red, free of any injuries. He doesn’t bother using them ever again.

Time pass, and temperatures become more and more of a foreign concept to him. He can still tell hot from cold, the way one sees red from green on tv. He knows they’re here, but they don’t affect him. Joe say they still do, because there’s something annoying in his throat and lungs he never manages to get out, but whatever “thermoregulation disorder is” Tai is positive this is not his issue.

When Tai is twelve, he coughs in his hand, and lava starts dripping down his chin.

Oh.

(In the bunk bed bellow him, Kari dreams of sand between her toes.)


	2. Sora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.thehappychickencoop.com/new-to-the-happy-chicken-coop/
> 
> I used this website way too much while writing this

"Are you growing sideburns?"

Tai's innocent question makes Sora pauses, halfway through tucking her hair behind her ear. "...what?"

Tai, being Tai, more actions and feelings than words and exposition, is already laying across the table to drag his hand across her jaw. His fingers get caught in something hard but bendable like tree branches. The resulting tickle gets a giggle out of her throat.

"You  _are_." He comments, with something that is half admiration and half pout. "I can't believe you're gonna get metal facial hair before I do."

She kicks him under the table and smirks. "We both know I'll rock the stubble more than you ever will." she teases with a laugh.

Except it's a month later after Tai notices it and the sideburns  _grow_ , and Sora isn't quite sure how to deal with that. She's trying, tentatively, to get more in touch with her feminine side; to try out the things she'd barred from herself a few years back out of anger and resentment (the nail polish definitively isn't her thing, but the skirts and comfortable enough.) But the sideburns explode in brown floof and she's thrown off-balance again, struggling against the whims of puberty and strange bodies and social expectations and figuring herself out.

She tries to get rid of it, with wax and razors, but it  _hurts_  and frankly? Not worth it. Sora has had enough hurt (and hunger and cold and sleeping outside on wet grass) to last her a lifetime or two already.

Mimi send her a bunch of pictures from America, of impossible haircuts and bright colors and "just go full butch, you'd look amazing." Matt takes her shopping on weekends, makeup in hands and fashion opinions on his tongue and "please, I'm a rock singer, the more androgynous I look the wilder the crowd gets." Tai shows up in a skirt every once in a while, all smile and twirls and "I may look masculine but I still look good in it, duh. Also I'm too hot to wear pants." (he really is; his hands are fire, but it's his words that warm her the most.)

Slowly, she learns to regain her footing.

Then, three months later, Sora washes her face and a feather stay stuck to her hand.

Her mind goes  _blank_.

She doesn't realize she'd stopped breathing until her mother calls her name. "Honey? You're gonna be late to school!"

She startles and slips the feather ( _her_  feather) in her pocket. "I'm coming!" What is happening to her?? How??  _Why_??

Izzy. She needs to call Izzy.

Her friends helped her all the way through their growth. No reasons they can't help her now too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the direction I expected to go to but you know what I ain't complaining.


	3. Matt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt is the one dude who looks 100% human and still manages to have one of the grossest mutations around  
> so ye warning for disturbing content ahead

There’s an itch.

Matt doesn’t remember  _when_  he started itching. He knows it grew, slowly, like moss on the sidewalk, unnoticeable; worming its way into his everyday life until he can’t stand it.

And try as he might, he  _can’t_  scratch it; he drags his nails over his skin so much his dad has asked him if he should call a doctor. It won’t go away. He thinks that maybe he isn’t scratching hard enough- his skin stays pristine white no matter how harsh he goes.

Worst of all- it  _spreads_. From the back of his neck where it started, it spreads to his shoulders, his arms, his thighs. It spreads in overstimulating tingles he still. Can’t. Scratch.

He can live with it, frustrating as it is. He’d learned to adapt, during that endless summer a couple years back. Still, it’s  _distracting_. More often than not, he finds his thoughts trailing off their tracks to circle around the unsolvable problem of how to  _scratch scratch scratch_. He’s playing the guitar and one of his bandmates flick his arm with a playful “how is your arm so pale compared to your face, do you only ever wear long sleeves?” and he has to force down the urge to grab the girl’s hand and use  _her_  nails. He’s wandering in the park and a cat tumbles out of a tree and he starts fantasizing about rubbing his back over the rough bark. He’s taking a shower and finds himself turning the water warmer and hotter and scalding to appease that skin that somehow never reddens.

Until, one day, Matt scratches his arm- and his skin curls away like an apple peel.

His breathing halts.

There is no blood. In fact, he doesn’t even feel any pain, despite the glaring fact that part of his skin is  _detached_  and  _hanging_  as if it is the page of a book rather than a very real very alive  _piece of his body._

Alright. Alright. Alright??? Alright.

Slowly, sensing panic rear its head, he exhales. 

As careful as he can, Matt takes hold of his hung skin- and tugs.

It’s a lot like tearing the wrapping off a gift. Or- or the shell off a lobster. Or- Matt doesn’t really have any appropriate simile for this, not when he’s watching his  _skin_  come apart so easily with his own two eyes.

There is new skin underneath it, he notices, dully. Soft, pinkish, and a lot more alive than the parchment-white shell he’s peeling off.

That’s when his fear finally kicks in.

He dashes toward the bathroom as fast as he can. Frantically, he struggles to lock the door and remove his clothes- and then everything dissolves in  _scratch scratch scratch_  and  _bite_  and  _pull_  and  _rub_  trying to get this dead wrap  _off_  him.

He shudders when he’s done, his new skin oversensitive to the cold wind. The sight at his feet is disturbing; a hairless version of Gabumon’s shroud, one born of his own back. It takes every fiber of his determination not to retch. Too many feelings press against his skull, confusion and fear and disgust, and it leaves him dizzy and gross.

 _Joe_ he thinks,  _I have to call Joe_

He barely notices that the itch is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life hack: cure your eczema by literally shedding your skin
> 
>  
> 
> .....do you think gabumon would wear matt's skin


	4. Mimi

She picks up gardening.

It’s a pretty spur of the moment decision; they’re shopping, her family is moving to New York soon, her mother tells her “what do you want to bring?” and as she trots toward the clothing isle her gaze lands on a botany book.

Old Mimi would have ignored it. Old Mimi wouldn’t have given it the time of the day. Frankly, Mimi isn’t even sure she knows half of the kanjis in this book.

She buys it anyway.

* * *

New York is nice. The city is as bright and loud as she is, a thunderstorm of passerby and lighting.

The small potted plants by her window are silent, their soft green welcome when Mimi needs a break from the world.

She prefers cacti; they’re less difficult to take care of, what with her family traveling to Hawaii or Colorado or elsewhere.

(That’s what she tells whoever asks, anyway.)

* * *

She’s ten when the first leaf break her skin.

It’s a small thing, on her left shoulder. It looks so fragile here, as if the slightest wind could tear it of.

Mimi is confident it couldn’t, though. That leaf’s a part of her, after all, and the two times she was left on her own she rose a kingdom and a small army. She knows herself stronger and tougher than she seems.

The proper reaction, she thinks, would be to panic. But Mimi has walked miles and fought back filth-throwing monsters once upon a time, so all that comes in her mind is  _huh_.

She boots up her computer and emails Izzy.  _I wonder if I can make it bloom?_

* * *

She’s eleven and the answer, as it turns out, is yes.

She smiles when she spots the flower on the side of her neck. It’s yellow, like the star hairclips in her drawer. Perhaps she should dye her hair pink, to go with it.

She knew one just can’t go wrong with water and sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mimi and Tai are p chill with that stuff but not everyone is dw


	5. Joe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for attempted self harm and a couple swears toward the end

Joe isn't quite sure what makes this day different.

Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe his last couple years had been the abnormal ones. His friends would certainly argue so; two years of studying, two years of sweating, two years of forgetting to eat and forgetting to sleep and having his head spinning from stress and anxiety.

Two years not so different from the rest of his life, actually. Maybe even a little easier; this endless summer of 1999 made him awfully resistant to petty things such as "hunger" or "sleep deprivation" or "pressure".

But that's the problem, isn't it? When was the last time he took time off for himself? When was the last time he looked,  _really_  looked in a mirror? Joe prides himself in being the normal one of the group. No wonder it takes him so long to realize that his perception of the world is skewed, too.

In all cases, here is the fact: on a Sunday morning, Joe wakes up. He yawns, he stretches, he brings his glasses to his nose.

And he sees his hand.

His heart skips a beat.

No. No. No. No no no nonoNOnoono no NO NO NO N O NO  ** _NO_**.

This is not right. This is not right. Hands shouldn't look like that. Hands  _don't_ look like that.  _Humans_  don't look like that.

His breath speeds up and he stumbles out of bed, holding on his bedside table with his- with this hand. Frantic, he knocks half his things off his desk, palming and looking and desperate-

His fingers close around a pair of scissors.

For a few seconds, he stares, unmoving, holding the tool up. He breathes deep and fast until he starts feeling dizzy, and he collapses on his chair.

The scissord clatter on the floor.

What is he doing? He was going to- he was about to- What the  _fuck_  is he doing?

He looks back at his hands- at the web that have grown when he wasn't paying attention, around his first knuckle. He had almost- cut it off. He'd almost sliced up his own  _skin_.

God. What's wrong with him?

He can almost hear Gomamon laughing at him.  _You worry too much, Joe, you need to go with the flow!_

Well. Between the two of them, Joe has never claimed to be the bravest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Webby hands
> 
> ALSO big shout out to every single one of you who reviewed or bookmarked this I'm so flattered??? (Looking at you Smashet) you guys are so nice I'm crying ;;-;;


	6. Izzy

His eyes turn black.

It's a gradual process, one that take place in the course of years. But Izzy is nothing, if not a scientist. He notices, the slow change in color. He notices, too, the discordance between his memories and his eyesight.  _Huh, I used to be able to read that. Funny, I didn't think this was in my field of vision from there._

He notices. That doesn't mean he pays attention.

Funnily enough, it's his mother who figures out what is wrong.

"Honey," she asks, something like concern in her voice- as if she isn't sure if she should worry yet. "Has there been any troubles in the digital world recently?"

No, none that he's aware. Why?

"Mrs Takaishi called earlier." It's kind of weird, to know that the parents of his friend circle are their own friend circle as well. But hey, they do they. He supposes they need a net of people who can understand them as much as Izzy does. "She's worried about Tk. Something went wrong. Also, your eyes. So I was wondering?"

...huh.

Interesting.

He receives the first mail a few days later- a polite inquiry from Mimi regarding roots under her skin- and the others follow during the weak in a waterfall of gradually panicking messages.

Izzy's eyes reflect the light strangely, in the mirror. It's funny. He hadn't noticed.

He meets up with the others in the park. He picks up sunglasses at the store on the way, because people keep staring at him, and because he's embarrassed that it took him this long to realize that he wasn't subject to a simple change in eye color.

They all look at him expectantly. Curious or scared or uncomfortable but all eager, ready for any explanation they can get.

None of them flinch when Izzy stares back.

"Compound eyes." He says, lifting his glasses up- it's not like Sora can hide those feathers of hers- or Tk seems interested ceasing to smile anytime soon. "So. I have some theories."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact compound eyes have a much lower resolution than human eyes, but they have a wider field of vision
> 
> I might come back later to rewrite that one tbh, I'm not 100% happy with how it turned out. (I got caught up in writing my digimon big bang fic so less teethk content haha)
> 
> Anyway, that was the curiosity boi. Hope u liked


	7. Kari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write this one last but the stubborn thing wrote itself

There is hunger.

Well, perhaps, hunger is the wrong word. Kari isn’t  _dying_  from it; she wouldn’t even say she’s suffering from it. 

But there is  _something_ , strumming beneath her skin. Some primal greed purring in her marrow, content like a cat- and ready to strike at the first opportunity to catch  _more_.

She doesn’t know more what. She just knows there’s desire. She’s not even sure it’s one that can ever be satisfied.

Sometimes, Kari sees things- hears things, at the corner of her eyes. A glimpse of red eyes, a muffled whisper, the faint scent of warm sand. She’s not unused to seeing things that are not there- but she wonders, sometimes, if the hunger has anything to do with it. Maybe there is something really tasty, right behind the veil, and the thirst twitches and pushes like a caged beast in an attempt to reach it.

It’s easier to forget about it when the others are here. When Tai laughs a “you can do it!” and Sora pats her back with a “I believe in you.” and Tk smiles with so much  _love_ that adults mistake for a crush but Kari knows to be much deeper than that. 

(Flames are not at fault for burning the logs in their wake; the light is not to blame, if the people are willing and their love is belief.)

There are a lot of things Kari doesn’t know. Though, she doesn’t think Izzy would know, either. All she can do, really, is to learn how to live with it.

The only thing she knows, for sure, is that this hunger is hers.

But she can still pretend this part of her she isn’t proud of belongs to another, for a while.

(In the meantime, she takes the habit of showering in the morning. The veil is thin in her dreams, and the seasalt is sticky on her skin when she wakes up.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a companion piece to "Because the light is hungry" (which can be found on this serie) so I highly rec reading it after this one


	8. Tk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back, someone asked me why it was named the "teethk au".
> 
> This is why.

His teeth fall.

It's nothing groundbreaking. He's young, he's human, and human lose teeth. It's a little awkward for some time, but he gets used to it- and Kari stops teasing him when her own teeth fall too.

The problem is his teeth grow back.

And they grow  _wrong_.

His mother  _freaks_ \- take him to dentists after dentists, frantic, hands shaking,  _please find a way to fix my son, please I'll do whatever it takes, **please**_

Tk doesn't get it.

His teeth grow sharp, and they grow big- but most importantly, they grow  _lots_.

Tk doesn't mind, really. Tokomon also had lots of teeth! He tries to explain to his mother, that less human doesn't mean  _bad_ , and more human doesn't mean  _good_  (Piedmon and Pinnochiomon and Myotismon and Devimon all had that general shape in common; that did not make them any less evil.) But she doesn't get it. She tells him he's flesh, not data- she tells him he's a human child, and human children should not grow teeth.

But Tk does not  _want_  to be a human child.

Humans are survivors- they're determined and resourceful and full of  _hope_. But Tk doesn't want to just survive. He wants to live and fight and  _protect_ \- he wants to be bigger and sharper than anything he can encounter.

As for the child part...

(white feathers in the wind and yellow-striped egg on the ground)

Well. He hasn't been one in a while, has he?

Still, Tk keeps his mouth closed and his teeth tucked in at home, because he loves his mother and his mother still think of him as human.

Outside, though- outside, it's fair game.

He smiles a lot. Because he's proud and he’s happy. He smiles, and when strangers in the street see him, they flinch.

 _Good_.

He  _wants_  this- these teeth feel right in his mouth, their weight comforting. He wants this, to be feared- to be able to scare away any potential threat. He won't be a burden, ever again. No one will force apart his family, ever again.

And if smiling isn't enough...

He'll show them a monster to be afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So on a scale from Tk to Joe how well do you react to suddenly turning nonhuman?
> 
> With that last chapter Pound of Flesh is now DONE! Wow! 
> 
> I'm honestly still not over how much attention this got. While I'm writing this the story has reached 500 hits- 500 hits!! Can you believe? I'm still- WOW.
> 
> So- a big thank you, to anyone who have kudoed, reviewed, sent me messages, and such. Honestly I don't think I would have written that much that fast without y'all motivation.
> 
> I still have ideas to write for Samphire and Smoke Snakes (and maybe other shorts?) so this isn't quite the end of the Teethk au yet. I'm also working on a big fic for the digimon big bang, which will contain some body horror too, so look forward to that
> 
> In the meantime, if you want to check out unposted wips, concepts, and some art of mine, check out my tumblr!  
> https://versegm.tumblr.com/tagged/teethk au
> 
> Thank you all again for this ride!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave the review in passing!
> 
> the tumblr's versegm


End file.
